


Long Distance Love

by Savorysavery



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Friendship, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-20
Updated: 2014-11-20
Packaged: 2018-02-26 09:23:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2646758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Savorysavery/pseuds/Savorysavery





	Long Distance Love

**Summary:** I love you no matter where we are.

 **Genre:** Romance, Fluff

 **Rated:** K

 

 **Author’s Note:** Just kind of something fluffy that I thought of at work today.

* * *

 

 

Korra sent the paper planes flying on a breeze crafted by her own hand.

 

They were flimsy things, made from paper where she could find it on her travels, and scrawled with whatever she had available: sometimes quills and calligraphy brushes dipped in ink fresh from inkstones, but usually pencils formed from wood and soft metals. She’d fill them with her throughts, and aim them towards Asami’s window back in Republic City, letting them go with a deft flick of her hand.

 

To some degree, these letters had become a way to preserve her sanity: she penned them and sent them along their way with a strong breeze, praying that Raava would catch them and urge them forward. She figured most wouldn’t make the journey across the water: really, Korra though that the breeze probably died shortly after the planes were out of sight, leaving the earth to devour the paper.

 

“Last one,” Korra thought. She’d chosen a pretty piece of paper: green, the same grass green as Asami’s eyes. The sheet had been pristine, inside of a small stationary shop in Kangwon, a tiny town that had an air of fantasy about it. Korra remembered feeling ethereal, especially as she’d found that paper, and when she plunked down the single copper  _yuan_ for it, it still felt unreal.

 

She’d penned the note in the shop, at a small table with fresh ink stones, buffalo yak hair calligraphy brushes, and a smooth surface. It hadn’t taken long: Korra didn’t have a lot to say, and when she was done, she folded it into a plane and left the shop.

 

Kangwon sat on the edge of a waterway, one that fed into Mo Ce Sea, which touched Yue Bay, and thus, Republic City. Korra felt that sending it from there was more special, that when she shot it towards Asami, it’d fly truer than all the other planes. Like each ritualistic time, she closed her eyes, made sure she was alone, and sent the plane out to sea.

 

Across the world, Asami sat was sitting in the bay window of her room on Air Temple Island. The window was open, letting in a cool breeze. She inhaled deeply, arms crossed, and green eyes glazed over. It was a pleasant day, and for once, Asami’s shoulders felt a bit lighter. Still, she couldn’t help her thoughts, and within minutes of relaxing, she was back to thinking about Korra, _of_ Korra. She whispered her name under her breath, but forced away the sadness.

 

Suddenly a paper plane glided in, promptly poking Asami right below her eye. She winced and fell backwards, toppling onto the floor out of surprised, right hand gripping her left eye and rubbing the dulling pain away. “Spirits! “She scrambled up, shaking her fist at the air. “I’ll so get you for that!” Asami sighed and unfolded the paper plan. She paused. There was writing scrawled across it, messy brush strokes filling the paper.

 

 _Asami_ , it began. _I miss you every day. It’s impossible out here for me. Or, it was. I had some things happen and now… well, now I’m better. No, not better._ The words had been poorlty scratched out. _I’m me again. And I’m tired. Really tired, and I want sea prunes and Republic City fried duck. I think I’m ready to come home, if you’ll have me._ A lump of emotion bulged in the center of Asami’s throat and she swallowed hard, but the tears came nonetheless, rolling down her cheek, smearing the wings of her eyeliner. She sobbed softly, arms wrapping around herself as she sat back down on the seat in the window.

 

“Hey.” Asami turned, and the wind wiped up into a minarature gale, threatening to send her to the floor anew. She blinked, holding a hand over her eyes to keep them same and-

 

“ _Korra_.” Her name was a whisper upon Asami Sato’s soft, red lips. She was here, in the flesh, albeit a lot more smelly than Asami had ever remembered, and worlds grungier. Despite the smell, and the dust cloud filling the air, Asami couldn’t help but extend an arm out to Korra.

 

Korra calmed the wind beneath her, slowly settling onto the green grass underneath the window. Nervously, she took Asami’s hand, nestling it in her own palm as if it were porcelain. She tugged, and Asami shifted, swinging her legs out of the window and clambering out onto the grass. “I…” Korra started, but she felt quiet again.

 

Asami’s tears came faster, and before she knew she closed the gap between the, burying her head so deep into Korra’s shoulder that she could smell the beginnings of the Avatar’s own scent: the ocean and fresh lemon, a clean smell that cut through the musk of her grime. Korra froze up for a moment, but softened, sighing deeply like she _lived_ for that single hug, for the embrace of another. When Asami pulled away and climbed back into the window, Korra was a bit shocked, but then Asami re-emerged, a simple, wooden box held in both hands.

 

“These…” Asami paused, and instead of speaking, opened the lid, revealing dozens of paper planes, all a different color. Some had water on them, and others bits of mud strained into the grain. Yet all the letters Korra had sent were there, within that wooden box, in near mint condition.

 

“You got them…” Korra’s face lit up, and a tear rolled down her cheek, cutting through the grime.

 

Asami set the box back on the windowsill and stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Korra once more. “Welcome home.”


End file.
